


grey

by soulofme



Series: sheith sentence prompts [11]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Conversations, College, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, but he’s doing his best guys, keith is an embarrassment to himself and others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 11:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15218678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: “Do you wanna, uh, grab lunch?”“Together?” Nice move. Real smooth.“Together,” Shiro confirmed.





	grey

**Author's Note:**

> [sentence prompt](http://stefansalfatore.tumblr.com/post/144981395239/sentence-prompts) #58: oh my god your eyes!

Keith leaned back in his chair, blowing a raspberry as he stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t expected that he’d be so early to Professor Montgomery’s lecture. It was the first day of the semester, and Keith wanted to at least _attempt_ to make a good impression. But arriving a whole ten minutes early made Keith feel like a try-hard. Not that he had anything against those that fell into that category. He just didn’t want such a label assigned to _him_.

But maybe it wasn’t a total waste of time. Earlier that morning, Lance had all but threatened him to save him a seat. Keith wasn’t particularly intimidated by his roommate, but he knew Lance could be a vindictive jerk if given the chance. And since Hunk hadn’t been around to pledge to protect Keith’s safety, he had no choice but to give in to the little demon (who was, unfortunately, one of his best friends).

So here Keith was. He’d left his phone at home, a foolish effort on his part. He imagined Lance was probably running around campus like a chicken without a head in search of the ever-elusive Loyola Science Center where the lecture was held. Keith himself had difficulty finding the building, and his sense of direction was at least ten times better than Lance’s.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor brought him out of his thoughts. Smirking to himself, Keith turned and was prepared to roast Lance on a level he’d never quite reached before.

"Lance!" He cried dramatically, turning to his right.

But…that was _not_ Lance. The guy sitting beside him seemed to figure that out, because he blinked rapidly—four times _in succession_ —before he leaned forward and squinted at Keith.

“You’re not Matt,” the guy said simply.

Keith fully intended to agree with that. But what he _actually_ said sounded a little bit more like—

“Oh my god, your eyes.” Keith had no idea why he was whispering.

The eyes in question were the color of storm clouds, or maybe silver or—fuck, Keith didn’t _know_. All he did know was that his heart was literally in his throat and he needed to take a breath before he passed out from oxygen loss or something equally embarrassing. He’d never had such a reaction to another person before, and he wasn’t sure why _eyes_ were the thing that did him in.

The guy looked even more confused now, and Keith hated how his brain thought it was somehow endearing. Now that Keith was currently plotting a way to off himself right then and there (the window would be a safe bet, since he was on the fifth floor), he took a second to look at the guy properly.

He had dark hair, save for the chunk of white that colored his bangs. It would’ve looked weird as hell on anyone else, but the guy pulled it off. Not that Keith was checking a stranger out. That was wrong in a hundred different ways. Keith’s eyes drifted down to the pink scar that stretched over his nose, dutifully ignoring the way the guy’s grey eyes were still blown wide, as if he just got the shock of his life.

Keith guessed that was the case, but his dignity didn’t allow him to acknowledge it completely. It also kept him from commenting on how the guy was built like a _fucking_ house. He could crush Keith with his biceps and a disgustingly large part of him felt like it would be the best thing to happen to him.

“I am so sorry,” Keith finally said (okay, why the fuck was he _still_ whispering?). The guy nodded once slowly.

“No worries,” he said, also whispering, and Keith wanted to die.

Luckily, he was saved from any further conversation by the slam of the door against the wall. The new occupant looked entirely unconcerned as he sauntered over to where Keith was sitting, a smirk on his face.

“Forgot something?” the newcomer asked, waving a slim pair of glasses in his hand at Keith's seatmate. “Who’s your friend?”

The guy cut him an apologetic look before he slid the glasses onto his face. Keith felt his ears get embarrassingly warm as the guy analyzed him.

“Wow,” he said, raking a hand through his hair in distress. “You look _nothing_ like Matt.”

“Oh my god!” Keith’s eyes shot up to the other guy. “You thought he looked like _me_?”

Keith sized the guy up, noting his pale skin, thick-lensed glasses, and short, honey-colored hair.

They…looked nothing alike.

“How bad is your vision?” Keith blurted out. Hot Guy (Jesus Christ, brain!) and Matt both stared at him.

“Worse than I thought,” Hot Guy admitted bashfully. “I’m really sorry.”

“Wow, Shiro,” Matt remarked dryly, yanking out the chair next to Shiro with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Keith’s eyes momentarily widened as he took in the action. Were they planning on _staying_ here? Because Keith really hoped that wasn’t the case. They found each other, right? Shouldn’t they relocate to one of the many Keith-less sections in the room?

The door squeaked open and Keith’s desire to walk into traffic skyrocketed. Lance stormed towards him like he was on the warpath, frowning deeply enough that Keith flinched.

“ _You_ ,” he hissed, his hands shooting towards Keith’s neck, full of intent. He stopped halfway, though, when he noticed they had an audience. “Oh, hello.”

Just like that, Lance was beaming at Matt and Shiro like they were old friends. Keith went from terrified to furious in ten seconds _flat_.

“Hey,” Shiro said, smiling shakily, while Matt settled for a two-fingered salute.

“Look at you,” Lance cooed, turning towards Keith with bright, shining eyes that promised a quick and immediate end as soon as Montgomery cut them loose (which, by the way, where the hell _was_  she?). “Making friends. _Without me_.”

“Not my fault you were late,” Keith said, crossing his arms defiantly. He was ninety percent sure he looked more like a freshly-scolded child.

“Do me a favor,” Lance chirped, sitting on Keith’s unoccupied side. “Die.”

“Do me a favor,” Keith parroted instantly, all too aware of Shiro’s eyes on him, “Remove yourself from my life.”

Lance huffed and leaned forward so he had a clear sight of Matt and Shiro.

“I’m Lance, by the way,” he said, waving and adopting a much friendlier persona. Keith made a mental note to discuss Lance’s turbulent moods with Hunk at a later date, preferably when his life was no longer on the proverbial line.

“Matt,” Matt said, smirking and nudging Shiro, who coughed and awkwardly darted his eyes away from Keith. “The broken one’s Shiro.”

“The ugly one’s Keith,” Lance said, throwing an arm around Keith’s neck. Matt and Shiro seemed oblivious to the way Lance dug his thumb into the base of Keith’s throat, nail and all.

“We’re already acquainted,” Matt said cheerily, and Keith got the sudden, horrific feeling that he and Lance were going to form some kind of kinship.

“Perfect,” Lance said, folding his hands and looking like a cheap imitation of a cartoon villain. “Hey, are you two free after this? We should grab lunch. Get to know each other, yeah?”

“Oh, sure,” Matt said, and Shiro made a small, wounded sound beside him. Keith hummed sympathetically but stopped as soon as Shiro looked at him. “We’re _always_ free.”

“We are not—” Shiro started, his voice pitched high, but didn’t get to finish when a group of students flooded into the room.

Montgomery strode in right after them, and Keith couldn’t help but the feel betrayed. She couldn’t have come ten minutes earlier and spared him from a lifetime of misery?

Alright, that was a touch dramatic. But sharing a living space with Lance had begun to do some serious damage on Keith. He felt like he was slowly losing himself day by day. It wouldn’t be long until he became some kind of angrier version of Lance. A mini-Lance.

Oh, god. That was terrifying.

He sunk into his chair and forced himself to pay attention as Montgomery launched into an explanation of the class and her expectations of the students in it. Keith kept his sanity by doodling little lions in the margin of his notebook.

Some higher being must’ve taken pity on Keith, because they were dismissed five minutes early.

He threw his books into his bag and heaved it up onto his shoulder, fully intent on blowing off whatever plans Matt and Lance cooked up in the few minutes they knew each other.

But he didn’t get very far. A hand clapped around his shoulder just as he crossed the threshold.

Keith wanted to strangle Lance.

“Keith?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Keith muttered, hopefully low enough not to be heard, and reluctantly faced Shiro. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I’m really sorry about all of that,” he said, sounding annoyingly genuine as he gestured vaguely towards the classroom.

Keith pointedly kept his eyes on Shiro’s when Lance all but skipped out, whistling merrily as he did.

“It’s cool,” Keith said, wrinkling his nose when he saw Shiro’s eyes flash with panic. “I kinda started it. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“It’s cool,” Shiro echoed, and oh, great. Awkward silence.

“I should go,” Keith said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “See you.”

“Wait.”

Keith looked back at Shiro, his heart plummeting to his stomach. He was taken aback by the determined expression on his face but decided not focusing on it would allow him to continue breathing normally. So, he looked at the space directly above Shiro’s head, hoping he didn’t look disinterested.

“Do you wanna, uh, grab lunch?” Shiro’s expression had no business looking that hopeful, and yet here they were.

Keith blinked. “Together?”

Nice move. Real smooth.

“Together,” Shiro confirmed.

“Yeah,” he managed to breathe out, too exhausted by the day’s events to berate himself for sounding like a damn fool. “That sounds…good.”

“Awesome,” Shiro said, positively beaming at Keith. He noted that one side of his mouth lifted high than the other, and if he looked closely enough, there were tiny dimples in Shiro’s cheeks. “Ready to go?”

Keith’s will to live increased exponentially.

“Totally,” he said, biting down on his lip to hide his grin.


End file.
